elwood's a uniped

I come before you half the man I used to be, a humbled and broken vestige of my former self.

Times like these I’m reminded of that great thinker (a Bostonian, surely) who proffered,

"THOU shalt not, but for a fool, venture into faire New Amsterdam with only thy walking sticke and flimsee foote-cloth as companie, for foote of a pleasante flesh and con-crete of firmest tread ought never fratonise nor mairie. Walke, then, and paye no mind, but you’d well to bend thy ear and taketh note; ye shall henceforth suffer paine of the ankle and pull of the crotche. Wince ye muste, and wince ye shall."

Well put.

Today I pullethed my crotche and suffered great paines of the ankle while walking the entire length of Manhattan from north to south. I also bruised the lateral musculature of my left foot, resulting in a pronounced limp. Your protagonist chose unwisely his wardrobe: dubious footwear, thin socks and invasive, motion-restricting blue jeans. When the sky fell and Aretha postmaturely took to the stage for her song of death, I Tiny-Timmed into Battery Park nine hours and twenty miles removed from Broadway Bridge, victorious and beaten both.

Surely this warrants more discussion in a later blog, as it’s hilarious. Sleep, now, for the dawn will fast and soon and an invalid am I.

(Both photos are from today's adventure. First was snapped at 208th, the second at South Street Seaport.)
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